


Shimmering Strength

by Mildly_Archaic



Category: RWBY
Genre: 'View from the gallery', Essentially a second plot following along with RWBY's main plot, Focuses almost entirely on OCs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 21:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13466472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mildly_Archaic/pseuds/Mildly_Archaic
Summary: Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang weren't the only students to begin training at Beacon Academy that year. They had classmates- a lot of them. Some of them have to have stories of their own, right? Enter Teams Titanium, Shimmer, and Cerulean.The goal of this story is essentially to be a 'view from the gallery', in that it centers around another group of students at Beacon Academy, and their adventures. It won't be entirely separate; I'll tell you right now that Yang is friends with one of the characters, and will be making a few appearances. But overall, this story is essentially about original characters in the RWBY world. My goal is to generally keep pace with the series, by which I mean that this story will continue to be told, even after the events of the main show's volume three.This is a story I've been working on for a while, and if I don't start publishing, I'm never going to get this done. So here it is. Updates may be infrequent, but I'll do my best. I hope you enjoy reading!





	Shimmering Strength

The new recruits to Beacon Academy all stared, whistled, or caught their breath as they stepped off the air cruiser and saw the school. Elizabeth Teale just watched them with distaste. Surely they'd all seen the sprawling academy before. There was no need for such theatrics.

“Woah, sis! Look at the garden, I forgot the cherry trees were so pretty this time of year! And look, they finished the renovations on the north tower over there, I bet that's where the new training holosuite mom talked about was!”

Elizabeth couldn't choose whether to grimace or smile softly at the theatrics of her twin sister, Naomi. As the excitable girl flitted around behind her, rattling off every minor change to the grounds since they had last been there, Elizabeth picked up both their austere bags and started for the main gate, entering the flow of other first years. After far too few moments of peaceful quiet -even a crowded walkway was quiet by comparison- Naomi caught up, caught a breath, and continued talking as the girls walked side by side through the courtyard.

After exhausting seemingly every minute modification to the school itself, Naomi turned her attention to the crowd, and Elizabeth found hers invariably drawn along with. “Just think, Liz. Any of these people could be our teammates!” Naomi’s tone went from frenetic to wistful as she watched the mass of students. “Think of all the stories, all the hopes and dreams all tied up here in one plaza. Really makes me wonder. Do you think the cafeteria has root beer again yet, after the incident?”

Elizabeth paid little mind to her twin’s whiplash-inducing subject change. She was used to them. Instead, she had followed Naomi’s lead and was watching the crowd, with a mix of bemusement and clinical fascination. Across the path, a lanky guy in a bow tie was laughing louder than others around him. A pair of girls, one in a red cloak and one in white, were arguing over a spilled briefcase. An elderly janitor was smiling wistfully, as if wishing he were a child again, and tipped his hat at a student in a black cape. All in all, the crowd was a mishmash of colorful outfits, excited voices, and showing off of weapons. It was chaos. The more Elizabeth tried to think about it all, the less she liked it. She was unused to seeing the familiar plaza this crowded, and the cacophony evoked a surge of distaste inside her until finally she ripped her attention from the overwhelming throng and thrust it back onto her sister, who had barely missed a beat.

Naomi continued her express train of thought, adjusting her fair, unkempt hair. “... which is when I said, ‘no, I'm going to Beacon next year to train to be a Huntress!’ And he laughed and wished me luck and said that The ‘Ungry Ursa wouldn't be the same without me as a waitress. And that's when I said-”

Before Naomi could continue, a familiar voice called their names from inside the main doors, which the sisters now stood before. Relieved upon hearing a friend in the sea of sound, Elizabeth couldn't help but smile pleasantly and Naomi practically squealed as the two hurried forward, entering the main building and hooking a left. A few feet past the stream of new students, they looked up into the smiling face of one of their oldest friends.

Maple Woolworth was adorned in a pair of black slacks and an untucked white button down with one rolled up sleeve, giving her an air of apathy towards her dress. Slung over her back was a black violin case, and her long, stringy hair was hanging down well past her shoulders. A headband was wrapped loosely around her forehead in a vain attempt to contain the chaos of her mane, and at least three different stains marked her blouse. In short, the girl looked a mess, which had pretty much been the norm for as long as Elizabeth had known her. She watched the Teale twins approach with a smile, then pulled them into a hug as her relaxed voice struggled to be heard above the cacophony. “Dudes, how's it going? Didn't expect to see you guys; figured you'd be sorted into a team and already running missions before the rest of us got unpacked.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Mother doesn't have that kind of authority, Woolworth. It’s good to see you, and as of now we're just like all of you.” As if to emphasize the point, Naomi received an unceremonious bump from behind that sent her wiry body flopping to the floor.

The voice of the perpetrator managed to escape the throng. “Sorry, sorry. Didn't quite see you there.” As Naomi raised her head, she looked with wonder into the eyes -or rather, concealing cloth facewrap- of a young man in a flowing brown robe. She took his extended hand and stood, smiling, then found herself unable to keep from asking the clear question.

“Thanks! So, what happened to your face?” As soon as she said it, she felt herself blushing and heard a soft critique of her manners from Elizabeth. Luckily, the man just laughed and reached up, removing the cloth from his face. Underneath, his dark skin and handsome features seemed totally normal, but the areas under his tightly-closed eyes were streaked with blue-green stains, which looked to have the same texture as a severe burn. Though he clearly could not see, he seemed to grasp that Naomi was staring, because he chuckled good-naturedly and rubbed his neck with one lithe hand.

“Nothing’s wrong with the face, as I assume you can tell. My eyes, on the other hand, are a bit of a different story.” As he replaced the wrap, this time arranging it so that his eyes were covered, but the rest of his visage still visible, he smiled. “Got unlucky with my Semblance. You learn to deal. See you around, everyone.”

With a quick nod at each of the three women, the man disappeared into the crowd. A few seconds passed before Naomi broke the silence. “Liz, why can’t I have no eyes?”

* * *

As soon as Sangua Margrave’s designer boots hit the cobblestone, she knew she would hate it here. Beneath her refined countenance, her insides were roiling with mixed emotions- mostly anticipation, worry, and no small amount of disgust. She was looking forward to being a Huntress, no doubt about that. But the thought of the process itself almost physically sickened her. The sooner she was licensed, on a team, and gone from the school, the better as far as she cared.

She was so preoccupied with her thoughts, she failed to notice the young woman in front of her stop suddenly and kneel. Sangua also failed to stop, slamming into her fellow student and flying forward, reducing both girls to a tangled mess. The girl who had kneeled separated first, standing quickly and offering Sangua a silver-gloved hand up, which the redhead irately accepted.

“Sorry, miss, didn't mean to make you trip. Just snapped a string is all.” She gently indicated the silvery guitar which hung around her neck. Sure enough, one string was missing, and the girl’s pick lay on the ground by Sangua’s foot.

A few seconds of silence passed. It became painfully obvious that the guitarist was waiting for Sangua to do the polite thing and pick up the pick, but the redhead remained unmoved. Though her alabaster face remained emotionless, Sangua was angry. She was angry at being tripped, angry at being called ‘miss’ by a girl her age, and more than anything, angry that she was still having this conversation. Finally, with a slight cough, the guitarist knelt again and picked up her own pick, staring at Sangua with a confused, forced smile the whole time.

The girl stood and continued. “Well, um, I'm sorry again that-”

But Sangua whirled on her heels and strode off down the walkway, ignoring the girl’s apology. She walked through the main doors, now a part of the throng rather than in front of it, thanks to her run-in with the annoying musician. The inside of the school was impressive, she had to give it that. But more than anything, at that moment, Sangua Margrave just wanted to be back home. At least there, she could count upon being ignored.

* * *

Maxine Haze stretched and yawned, sitting up against the wall. She, along with the other first years, were camped out in the massive ballroom for the night, and while most of them were crowded together talking, greeting, and looking around, she was alone, fiddling with her turntable. It was a device of her own creation, a foot-long plank of translucent yellow material capped by a pair of white bases, much like a larger scroll, with holographic buttons and tuners. In the middle were a pair of clear discs, just to give it that true DJ feel. She had expected -from experience- people to ask about it as soon as she got it out, so she was rather grateful for the massive hall providing ample other distractions.

The sleeping arrangements were temporary, of course. Tomorrow, in three shifts, first year students like Maxine would undergo some kind of initiation, after which they'd all receive permanent dorm rooms. Maxine knew none of this. She had listened to the first twenty words or so of the headmaster’s speech before she got a tune in her head, a funky, 3/4 thing involving a lot of sharps and dotted eighths. Since then, it had been looping nonstop in her mind and she had done little but adjust sliders and twirl knobs on her turntable to try and emulate it. At the moment, it sounded nothing like its original incarnation, but she was still satisfied with the progress.

Maxine heard a soft noise approaching her and took her headphones off. Looking up, she found herself watched by a stern-faced young woman. She had messy blonde hair and blue-tinged, primitive pajamas. Though her vibrant green eyes showed no hostility, they were constantly wandering from where she pointed them, as if she expected something to try and jump her at any moment. Most noticeable about her, however, was a pair of grey horns curling out from under her shaggy fair mane, forming elegant, sharp lines around her face like a frame. When she spoke, Maxine could barely keep from gasping- her voice was a perfect, crystal clear soprano, high and oddly melodic coming from such an imposing figure. I would kill for a voice like that! Maxine thought, still watching the girl with a vacant smile. Maybe I can convince this girl to record a song with me sometime. Her voice would be perfect for that ballad I wrote last- wait. Realizing the Faunus was still talking to her, Maxine tried to shove the other thoughts from her mind and focus on that voice.

“... and so I wished to come and speak with you. You intrigue me. Why are you too not trying to socialize?” The Faunus asked, indicating the room with a subtle sweep of her arm.

The DJ smiled and set down the turntable, raising herself up to her full height, which barely hit the horned woman’s sternum. Maxine had always been short, but this girl was massive. Stretching her back, she smiled a little and muttered “I don't really do ‘people’, y’know? Plus I've been mixing.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at the turntable.

“I see, I see.” The Faunus replied, allowing a few seconds of awkward silence to pass before she coughed. “The, uh, the truth is, I would like to. To do ‘people’ as you say. I grew up outside of the Kingdom, so I am not very good at this sort of thing.” Another awkward silence split the girls before the Faunus muttered, “I am sorry, I should go…”

Maxine was not particularly social herself, but this was just sad. She couldn’t let the girl go after a defeat like that. “No, it's okay. I've been meaning to take a break anyway. We should, uh, chat…?” She couldn't help but crack a smile. “We suck at this, don’t we?”

The Faunus nodded with a grin and a soft, though genuine laugh. “On that, we are agreed. I am known as Raz Joda, but you may call me Joda. May I sit?”  
Maxine nodded. “And I’m Maxine Haze.” As the two sat back against the cool wall, Maxine couldn’t help but ask the question that had been on her lips since Joda first spoke to her. “So, um, Joda. Do you sing?”

Joda looked a little surprised, but shook her head. “No. We did not have time for things such as that back home.” The lilt of her voice gave Maxine pause, expecting her to go on, but she never got the chance. An older man in a suit came in and called for lights out, and after a quick, awkward handshake, Joda hurried off towards her sleeping bag. Maxine powered down her turntable and slid into her own bag, sighing contentedly. That counted as making a friend, right?

* * *

Across the ballroom, upon a veranda, a woman barely registered the ram Faunus’ return to her humble sleeping mat. Her attention lay on a pair of figures nearer the far exit. One, with bushy blonde hair, was bouncing excitedly as her mouth ran a hundred miles a minute. It was too far for the woman to hear any of what she was saying, but the message was unimportant.

Professor Teale couldn’t help but smile as she turned to go. She was looking forward to having her daughters close at hand.


End file.
